picked by my scatter-brained best friend – but I didn’t want to let Greg down.
I got to Café Rouge just as the lunchtime rush was about to start. It was a small, smart-looking café nestled between an independent bookshop and a dry-cleaner’s. The air was warm for mid-October so I took a seat at one of the little metal tables outside. A huge red parasol emblazoned with Café Rouge rose up from the centre, protecting me from the sun’s rays. Since I was a bit early, I took the opportunity to have yet another mint and fix my ponytail. My hair had dried now so the whole thing had gone very bushy and I looked like a badly groomed poodle.
Greg arrived shortly after. I saw a tall, slender figure walking down the street and instantly knew it was him. His fitted blue shirt, black trousers and smart shoes, plus the way he carried himself all screamed “male model”. His hair was closely cropped and, as he drew nearer, I spotted a cheeky glint in his eye. Maybe this date wouldn’t be so bad after all.
‘Ava Clements?’ he asked in a thick Liverpudlian accent.
‘That’s me!’ I stood up too quickly and knocked my chair backwards. Smooth Ava, really smooth.
I picked it up and offered my hand to him, which he shook firmly.
‘Nice to meet you, I’m Greg Williams,’
He smiled and we sat down. I picked up a menu and peeked over it to look at him. Gwen wasn’t wrong; he really was a good-looking guy. I could just imagine his face gracing some high-end men’s fashion campaign. He caught me looking at him and flashed a half-smile. My cheeks began to burn and I dropped my eyes back to the menu.
‘You know, when Gwen told me she had a mate to set me up with, I didn’t expect someone who looked like you,’ he said.
‘Oh, I hope I’ve exceeded your expectations then!’ I allowed a slight barbed edge to creep into my response. I couldn’t tell how he’d meant that remark so decided to be on my guard.
‘I don’t know yet, I think I’ll reserve judgement until after the meal.’
Ouch, that stung. I drummed my fingers on the table and took quick glances at the menu in front of me. I knew I couldn’t let one slightly off remark ruin a whole date; I had to be open-minded and see what Greg had to offer. If I didn’t, I could well end up knee-deep in cat litter and tins of Whiskas.
After a few minutes, a waiter came to take our order.
‘I’ll have the steak and chips and a pint of Coke please mate,’ said Greg.
‘Can I have the penne carbonara and a mineral water please?’ I handed the menus to the waiter and smiled as he took them away.
Out the corner of my eye, I saw Greg raise his eyebrows sceptically.
‘What’s up?’ I asked. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer but felt it was polite to at least ask.
‘Nothing, nothing…’ He trailed off and folded his arms, causing the delicate material of his shirt to strain at his biceps.
‘Are you sure?’ I didn’t feel comfortable with the atmosphere that had developed between us. It was obvious I’d done or said something to offend him but I couldn’t think what.
Greg shook his head and curled his top lip in a very unattractive way then sat forward so he could see me.
‘I just… I thought you would’ve ordered a salad instead of pasta, that’s all.’
The comment took me aback. I certainly hadn’t been expecting that; since when did your choice of food matter so much on a date? I’d clearly been out of the game too long.
‘Oh… OK, forgive me for sounding stupid here but why does what I have to eat bother you?’
He let out a sharp breath and glared at me like I’d asked the most stupid question ever.
‘Well look at me, Ava. I’ve modelled for Calvin Klein, Burberry and Primark; I’ve got a certain image to maintain.’
You certainly have if you’re modelling for Primark, I wanted to say.
‘Right…’ I said slowly, not quite understanding what he meant.
‘What I mean is,’ he continued, seemingly having read my mind, ‘I can’t just be seen with any old heifer. My agency’s looking to get me into acting and presenting so who I’m seen with is everything. Don’t get me wrong love, you seem nice enough although your face is quite plain and you could be doing with losing about a stone. A big bowl of pasta isn’t going to do you any favours; I’d have gone for a salad if I were you.’
I sat opposite him, open-mouthed and scarcely able to believe what I’d heard. He’d called me ugly and fat and critiqued my food choices; he’d only known me five minutes! Cheeky bastard.
‘Goodbye Greg.’ I calmly got up and walked away from the table as fast as I could.
Just before we wound up for the day, Paddy and Miranda called a surprise editorial meeting. As usual, they’d sprung it on us on a Friday evening, when everybody was too busy thinking about the weekend ahead to contribute good ideas These meetings almost never happened at the start of the week when people were refreshed and full of energy.
‘Right everybody, I know it’s only October but we need to start planning for our Valentine’s Day issue right now. Our competitors Mirage and Glitter will already have started and you can bet your life they’ll have something big planned to shift issues. It might be an exclusive interview with a big celebrity or a huge features project but whatever it is, we need to do something bigger and better. Mirage beat us in the circulation figures last year and we can’t let the same thing happen again. I want us to pull something spectacular out of the bag. I know it’s quite soon to be thinking about it but does anyone have any ideas?’
Maddie’s hand shot straight up in the air. ‘We could compile a list of the city’s top Valentine’s date spots.’
How original, I said to myself, our competitors would never think of that. Then again, I didn’t exactly have a list of amazing ideas myself.
‘That’s good Maddie, but I want you all to think big. Think amazing, think of something that’ll really pull the readers in.’ Paddy sat forward and rubbed his hands together, waiting in anticipation for one of us to produce the gold nugget that would blow Mirage and Glitter out of the water.
A sketchy idea formed at the back of my mind but I wasn’t sure it was any good. Then again, I reasoned, it couldn’t be any worse than Maddie’s one.
‘Um…’ I tentatively raised my hand. ‘What about doing a Valentine’s love story with a twist? M-Maybe the couple met or got together in unusual circumstances? We could even gather two or three together and make a feature out of them.’
Miranda rolled her eyes and shook her head. ‘I don’t really think the readers want any twists on Valentine’s Day stories. We should stick with traditional boy-meets-girl tales, the ones that everybody knows and loves.’
She shot a sideways glance at Paddy, waiting for him to agree with her like he usually did. However, his deep brown eyes were still firmly fixed on me.
‘You
